Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“The same.” My throat grew dry when his cologne filtered past my nose, combined with a scent that was just him. It appeared my sense of smell was keen on whatever Jonathan’s natural odour was because I couldn’t seem to resist breathing him in.
“Kevin said it was fine for us to form a new team,” Debbie announced upon her return. “Though not without sassing me for leaving it to the last minute to inform him.” She cast Jonathan a cheeky wink. “I don’t mind suffering his attitude for you, though, Blondie. It’s not every day we get such pleasing company.”
“Hurt and offended, just so you know,” Lewis commented, clutching his chest.
“Sorry, hon. I’ll give you an extra helping of stew for dinner tomorrow.”
“I want three helpings,” Lewis countered.
“You drive a hard bargain,” Debbie chuckled, and I felt someone’s attention as I glanced down the table and found Cathal wearing a flat expression. Anyone else wouldn’t give it a second thought, but I knew his tells. He was annoyed. God, I really wished he hadn’t come tonight. I was starting to realise I was way more at ease when he wasn’t around.
“You okay?” Jonathan asked, his hand lightly touching my knee under the table.
“I’m fine.”
He eyed me shrewdly. “You sure?”
“Of course.” I gulped back another mouthful of wine, and then to my relief, Kevin, the quizmaster, stepped up to the microphone and started the quiz. Jonathan’s hand left my knee, and I found myself missing his touch.
It was nice to be able to just focus on answering the questions and not fixate on his warmth next to me, how distracted I was with him sitting so close. He hadn’t lied about being good at quizzes. We’d barely gotten a question wrong all night thanks to him.
“Okay, next round is economic history,” Kevin announced, and several groans sounded. With Jonathan on our team, I wasn’t at all worried about this round.
“In the Netherlands in 1636, what rare item caused an economic boom for the country known as a certain mania?”
“Oh! I know this one because they’re my favourites,” I said, scribbling down the answer just as Jonathan leaned close to me and whispered, “Tulips are your favourite?”
Of course, he knew it was tulips. Anyone who worked in the finance sector had surely been educated on the period known as Tulip Mania.
“They’re so bright and cheerful. The last few years, my dad would …” I trailed off, a sudden twist of pain in my gut to know my birthday was coming up next week, and I wouldn’t be receiving my bouquet of multi-coloured tulips from Dad this year—or any other year for that matter.
Flowers for most people were a neutral thing. They found them pleasing but didn’t have strong feelings either way. For me, they were a big deal. I’d been obsessed as a kid, loved to pick them from the garden and display them in vases about the house. But for a large part of my later life, I had a hard time smelling or even looking at flowers of any kind because they were so wrapped up in a traumatic memory. Repairing my relationship with my father had allowed me to finally be able to enjoy them again without feeling a pang of emptiness in my stomach. I’d even taken up gardening when I moved in with him and Leonora, fully facing my fears by tending to the flower beds outside the house.
“Sorry,” I said, wiping at the tear that had formed in the corner of my eye. I cleared my throat. “My dad would buy them for me every year on my birthday.”
“Oh, honey,” Rina said, placing her hand atop mine where she sat on the other side of me. “Don’t ever apologise. My mam passed almost six years ago, and I still well up at the most inconvenient moments.”
“I’m okay, really. My birthday is next week, so it just feels a little raw.”
“Well, that goes without saying. And speaking of your birthday, is Victoria sponge still your favourite type of cake?”
I started to smile. “You’re getting a cake?”
“Yes, and it’s already ordered and paid for, so don’t even think about trying to get me to cancel it.”
A wave of gratitude swept over me at the thoughtful gesture, even though I hated people making a fuss over me. But it had been a rough year, and the simple act of kindness made me more emotional than it might’ve ordinarily. I laughed softly. “If you start buying cakes on my birthday, you’ll have to buy one for everyone’s birthday, and then we’ll find ourselves eating cake every other week.”
“I wouldn’t mind that,” Debbie put in with a chuckle.
“It’s your birthday next week?” Jonathan asked quietly, and I nodded. “What day?”
“Why do you want to know?”
He smirked. “Maybe I want to throw you a party.”